


A Warm Respite from a Chilly Night

by doilycoffin



Series: Wincest Love Week (Fall 2016) [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Fluff and Smut, Hot Chocolate, M/M, Riding, consensual drunk sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8686231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doilycoffin/pseuds/doilycoffin
Summary: After spending a good chunk of their evening freezing their asses off, Dean decides to warm him and Sam up with some good old fashioned spiked hot cocoa. And if it results in him getting to have a little fun with a very tipsy and horny Sam, then who is he to complain?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "Hot chocolate + snuggles" 
> 
> (note: while both of the boys are buzzed in this fic, the sex is very much enthusiastically consensual)

Although the hunt itself was wrapped up pretty easily, the fact that the impala’s heater stopped working half-way through their trip back to the bunker made circumstances less than ideal for Sam and Dean. They were both cold as hell during the last couple of hours of the trip and Dean could hear Sam’s teeth chattering even over the roar of Metallica blasting through the car, so it was with no small amount of relief that they finally arrived home and dragged their half-frozen selves inside.

As he puttered around the kitchen a few minutes later, Dean could hear the sound of logs being tossed in the fireplace and the almost imperceptible grumble of Sam cursing as he no doubt had difficulty getting a fire started while his numb hands still shook from the cold. While Sam was on fire duty, Dean was doing his part as well to get them nice and toasty by whipping up a batch of homemade hot cocoa on the stove. By the time it was finished, Dean could already hear the crackling roar of fire that told him Sam had finally been successful in his endeavor, and he quickly poured them both some giant mugs of chocolate-y heaven (adding a generous amount of whipped cream and a sprinkle of nutmeg to Sam’s because he knew that his brother liked his hot chocolate to be on the frou-frou side) before carefully delivering them to the living room and plopping down next to Sam on the couch.

“Careful, it’s pretty hot. You might want to give it a couple of minutes,” he warned as Sam gratefully took the offered mug.

“Thanks man, I was hoping you might make some. I’m still freezing.” Sam held the mug closely and breathed in deeply, sighing in contentment. “Reminds me of when we were kids. You used to make it for me all the time, remember?”

Dean smiled a little in nostalgia. When they were younger and had the rare opportunity to stay somewhere with a continental breakfast, there would sometimes be a complimentary stack of instant hot cocoa packets and Dean would stuff as many as he could into his pockets because he knew how much his brother enjoyed the treat. Whenever Sam had a rough day at school or was in a foul mood for one reason or another, Dean would fire up the coffee maker and dump in a couple of packets of hot chocolate; it always put a smile on Sam’s face no matter how watery and cheap the hot cocoa ended up tasting.

“Yeah, except now I can make _real_ hot chocolate. No more futzing around with a coffee maker to make some of that instant crap. Now it’s gourmet hot chocolate all the way.”

Sam hummed and scooted a little closer to Dean, letting their thighs touch. “I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully. “I thought it was pretty good anyway. Somehow it never tasted as good when I tried to make it myself, but you were always pretty handy with a coffee pot.”

“Hey, I’m a man of many, many talents,” Dean said proudly. “And mastery over the coffee pot is definitely one of them, hot chocolate related or not. No one can make coffee pot macaroni and cheese like Dean Winchester.”

“True.” Sam took a gulp of the hot cocoa when he finally determined that it was cool enough and Dean was amused by his brother’s wince as he discovered the unexpected kick.

“I might have Irished it up a little,” he admitted.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe a lot. But I think we deserve to kick back with a little booze in celebration of a hunt well done.”

“No arguments here,” Sam agreed.

The next several minutes passed between them in a cozy silence with Sam curled up against Dean’s chest as they both basked in the warm glow of the fire, chugged down more mugs of the spiked hot cocoa, and enjoyed the pleasant tingle of tipsiness that overcame them. Perfect little moments like these were both rare and treasured, and Dean tried to memorize how comforting Sam’s weight felt against him, the way his hair tickled Dean’s collarbone as his head was resting on his shoulder, the warm and welcome feeling of Sam’s breath against his neck, and the way that the goofy looking dog-covered sweater that he received as a joke from Alex and Claire last Christmas rode up just enough to give Dean an alluring glimpse of skin. Idly, Dean wondered if this would be one of those memories that he and Sam would get to relieve over and over when they finally made it into Heaven for good.

Well, _if_ they ever made it to Heaven. He supposed it depended on how serious Billie was about just tossing them into the void. Whatever.

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt Sam begin placing gentle kisses on his neck while using his thumb to rub lazy circles on his hip.

“What are you thinking so hard about?,” he asked softly.

“Mostly about the fact that I forgot how horny whiskey gets you,” Dean lied, not wanting Sam to know what a sap he was being. The whiskey part was true though; something about it really did turn him into kind of a slut more often than not. Not than Dean was complaining, obviously, as long as he was the object of Sam’s slutty affection.

“What? It does not,” Sam scoffed, not pausing in his ministrations.

Dean slid his hand over Sam’s thigh and cupped it over the growing bulge in his jeans, smirking as Sam moaned and arched into the touch.

“…it might make me a little horny,” he confessed. “But I doubt that you actually‘forgot’ that. You probably just wanted to get me good and drunk so you could have your way with me.”

Dean tugged Sam closer until he was practically sitting in his lap and kissed him deeply, savoring the taste of lingering chocolate and whiskey in his mouth. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart,” he said as he pulled away and shot Sam a flirty wink.

Sam pursed his lips and scrunched up his nose in concentration. “I suppose I’ll allow it,” he granted after pretending to mull it over, and the way he immediately climbed off of Dean’s lap in order to gracelessly remove his pants and boxer-briefs without even bothering to take off the sweater told him that Sam was a lot more eager than he said. Once Sam clambered back onto him, he immediately resumed kissing him and began grinding downwards onto Dean’s still clothed crotch.

“I think there might still be some lube in the couch somewhere,” he muttered into Dean’s ear, heavily hinting that he should hurry up and start screwing him already. Dean didn’t need to be told twice and frantically stuck his hand between the couch cushions until he came across the half-empty tube, grateful that he’d been too lazy to put it back in his bedside table the last time they’d fucked on the couch. Not wasting any time, he poured a generous amount on his fingers and guided them to Sam’s hole, sliding two inside and relishing the loud, desperate whine he got in return. With Sam being nice and relaxed from the buzz he had going and still a little loose from getting fucked earlier that morning, it wasn’t long before Dean had him riding three of his fingers like it was going out of style and begging for more.

“C’mon Dean, just fuck me already. Just wanna feel you inside of me, I want it so bad,” he implored, and Dean wasn’t nearly cruel enough to deny him. He quickly removed his fingers and Sam gasped at the sudden loss but took his weight off of his lap so Dean could shove his jeans and underwear down to his thighs, allowing his aching cock to finally spring free from its confines. Without further ado, Sam took a hold of Dean’s cock to position it at his entrance, and slid all the way down in one long glide. As he began rolling his hips, lost in euphoria and too buzzed to follow much of a rhythm, Dean languidly began jerking him off and eagerly observed the way Sam’s eyes fluttered and his deliciously pink mouth fell open, letting breathy little moans escape from it.

“That’s it Sammy, ride me good and hard,” he encouraged as he watched his brother bounce on his cock. “God, you’re so fucking hot when your tight little ass is stuffed full of my dick, but I bet I can fit even more inside. What do you think?”

“Fuck, yeah, do it,” Sam choked out, his cock spasming slightly in Dean’s grasp. With his free hand, he trailed his fingers to Sam’s stretched rim and teasingly circled it before slipping in one of them alongside his cock. Within seconds, his brother stiffened and came all over his hand with a stuttered gasp and a sharp cry. Exhausted, he slumped forward bonelessly and allowed Dean to continue thrusting inside of him and moaned weakly as Dean wrapped his hands firmly around his hips and moved him up and down on his cock like a ragdoll.

“Mmm, yeah, come inside me, Dean. Please, please, please,” he babbled senselessly, and Dean was helpless but to obey, groaning as pleasure coursed through him and he finally filled Sam up. Afterward, they traded lazy kisses as they enjoyed the afterglow while Dean was still inside of him.

“Alright, I guess we should probably go get cleaned up,” he said after a couple of minutes and delivered a playful smack to Sam’s ass in an effort to rouse his sleepy brother.

“Don’t wanna,” Sam grunted, his voice muffled from being buried in Dean’s neck.

“Yeah, well, Drunk Sam might not care about it now, but I’ll be the one who gets bitched out by Sober Sam later if we don’t.”

“I don’t like Sober Me,” Sam answered petulantly. “That guy sucks, and I just wanna go to sleep.”

Dean snorted in amusement. “I’ll be sure to pass that along to him. Just between us though, I’m a pretty big fan of Sober You.”

“Even though he sucks?”

“Mmhmm. Now what do you say we get up and head to bed? I don’t think my back can handle staying like this all night.”

Sam sighed. “Fiiiine,” he drawled. He began disentangling himself from Dean and hissed a little as his cock finally slid out of him. Dean stood up as well and pulled up his pants, taking a moment to admire Sam in his disheveled state. His hair was a mess, his sweater had gotten some questionable stains on it, and his ass and thighs were shiny with lube and Dean’s come. All in all, he looked well and truly debauched and Dean felt a pang of regret that he didn’t have his phone or a camera on him so that he could preserve the sexy scene on film forever.

Oh well. He supposed he could always try to recreate it tomorrow. 


End file.
